


Peter Pan: The Unknown Backstory

by sjlim



Category: Peter Pan (1953), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie, Return to Never Land (2002)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-20 04:45:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12425274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjlim/pseuds/sjlim
Summary: Ever wonder what happens after the Darlings return home from Neverland? This , inspired from the 1953 Disney animation Peter Pan and its sequel, ties the two movies together in an attempt to explain the unknown period between them.





	1. Chapter 1

**WENDY’S POV**

It was a cloudless night in London. The full moon shone over the clock tower that loomed over the inhabitants of London. All was still; every child was in bed, dreaming sweet dreams. Except one.

Wendy wasn’t asleep yet—she was, in fact, wide awake, and was staring out the open window dreaming of Peter Pan, the mysterious boy who took her on adventures. She wondered when he would visit. She hoped it would be soon, for she did so want to see him again. 

Patiently, she waited. And waited. When it was a quarter to twelve and there was still no sign of Peter, Wendy sighed resignedly and latched her window closed. She drew her blue curtains over the paned glass, obscuring the moonlight. She then padded over to her bed and lay down on it, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

It had been three months since Peter had escorted her home from Neverland. On reaching the room she shared with John and Michael, she had immediately turned for a few last words.

“Peter,” she had said. “Thank you so much for letting us return. I couldn’t happily live in Neverland with knowing how we left Mother and Father childless.”

Peter had nodded, keeping his gaze steady on her. Wendy continued.

“You’ll come visit, won’t you? And frequently? I can’t bear to part with you forever.”

Peter had then smiled a sad little smile, so unlike his usual cocky grin.

“Yeah, Wendy,” he had said. “I’ll visit, for sure.”

Then he had leaped out the window and with a whoosh, had flown off into the night. That was two months ago. Every day, Wendy had waited, and every day, Peter did not make his appearance.

Wendy sighed in bed and looked up once more at her big, glass-paned windows. Her blue curtain, patterned with streaks of silver, were blown back against the wall. A streak of cold, pure moonlight swathed the room in eerie sweeps. Her windows were open also, letting in a soft, gentle, evening breeze.

But wait—Wendy bolted upright. She was sure she had closed her curtains and window just a moment before. She stared, unable to believe her eyes. Then suddenly, a great gust of wind whooshed into her room, sending her hair flying in every direction. When Wendy rearranged her hair out of her eyes, her eyes caught something, a shadow.

A shadow of a boy loomed on her bedroom floor, along with a speck that kept flittering from side to side. Hardly daring to hope, Wendy crept out of bed toward her open window. When she fought off her billowing curtains, she looked up to see—none other than the one she had hoped for.

Peter Pan stood on the windowsill, hands on hips, as youthful as ever, with copper-red hair, pointy ears, clothing clumsily sewn together with leaves, and a mischievous smile. Alighted on his shoulder was Tinker Bell, emitting a pearly, gold glow.

Wendy felt herself smile genuinely for the first time in days.

“Peter!” She exclaimed, jumping up to embrace him. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been so worried when you didn’t come; I figured something horrible must have happened!”

Peter laughed and disentangled himself from Wendy’s arms gently.

He then flew her down to the floor. Standing face to face with him, Wendy noticed that she was a bit taller than him. That came as a shock, for she used to be eye to eye with him. She supposed that was her price for choosing to return to London. Still, she felt sad.

 

**PETER’S POV**

Peter hadn’t meant to visit Wendy so late. In fact, he returned a week after he left. But looking at Wendy’s somehow more grown-up face, he was struck with a realization that the time in London and Neverland didn’t correlate. That was bad, really bad.

“Nah, nothing bad happened,” he said, trying for his usual cockiness to hide his unease. “The Lost Boys and I played some tricks on the pirates, went on a hunt with the Indians, and swam with the mermaids.”

Wendy nodded, eager for more news.

Then Peter noticed something unusual.

“Where’s John and Michael?” he asked, turning his head side to side. “I want to see how they’re doing. Tinkerbell wants to see them, too.” Tinkerbell tinkled her affirmative.

Wendy looked down at her toes. It seemed she was reluctant to say something, but say it she did.

“A month after you left,” she began cautiously. “I—I turned thirteen. My parents decided that I was too old to share a room with John and Michael anymore, so they had to move out to another room.”

Peter was stricken. His friend Wendy was no longer a child anymore; she could no longer be able to fly ever again. That was the Neverland rules: children were admitted, but not teenagers or adults. If attempted, the adult would only rise for a few seconds, only to drop down again.

“You do know what that means, don’t you?” Peter said, trying to keep his voice steady. “You can’t come visit Neverland anymore.”

Wendy slowly nodded, her eyes filling with tears. They trickled down her cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t come visit you,” Peter continued hurriedly, trying to comfort her. “Time in Neverland and London aren’t the same, but I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Wendy nodded again, a look of hope blossoming on her face.

The rest of the night was spent in Peter relating to Wendy all the adventures he had had, and Wendy begging for more details. Then they reminisced about their encounter with Hook, laughing all the while.

The hours passed quickly, and Peter soon saw the pink light of dawn creeping up on the horizon. He didn’t want to leave so soon, but leave he must. He stood up.

“I’ve got to go, Wendy,” he said. Wendy rose. “I’ll come back soon.”

And with a last look and a smile, he took off.

 

**WENDY’S POV**

Wendy ran to the window and looked out. The sky was just beginning to lighten with streaks of pink and orange, and against the magnificent backdrop a small figure of a boy could be seen flying past the clock tower—the same clock tower that she herself had flown past once.

She gazed longingly at the figure growing ever smaller, and made a wish.

“One day, even if just for a moment, I want to fly again.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

WENDY’S POV

Years passed, and Peter returned at least once every 3 months to see her. Wendy started to value his visits more than ever, for she felt herself growing older and older every day, widening the chasm between her and her childhood.

Then suddenly, Peter’s visits stopped.

Wendy felt a growing sense of panic grow within her every day of his absence, and against her will imagined all sorts of dreadful things that could have happened to him. Her alarm only grew and grew with each passing day, and soon she became ill with stress.

Wendy was faithfully attended to by her mother and Nana, but it soon became apparent that she was too ill to leave bed. Weeks passed, and Wendy remained in bed, her fever as high as ever.

Then one day, a boy she sat next to in school brought her flowers and a pot of chicken broth, saying he hoped she got better soon because school was boring without her enthusiastic chatter. Maybe it was because she was lonely. Or maybe it was something else. Whatever the case, her health gradually started to improve, and within another 2 weeks she was able to walk about the room freely again.

Wendy went back to school, and the boy was overjoyed to see her. She slowly started to develop an affection for him, not unlike the one she felt for Peter. But Peter wasn’t here, and she could never hope that he would ever return her affections because he was so young and didn’t understand love. A little sad at leaving her childhood behind but excited at the prospects of a new future, Wendy threw herself into the present.

Fifteen years later, she got married to the very same boy who brought her chicken soup. They moved into Wendy’s home, because her parents had died in a car accident a few years before.

A year later, Wendy and her husband were blessed with a daughter, Jane. She was the pride and joy of her life, and Wendy, gazing at her daughter who looked exactly like her, felt that parenthood was the best thing in the whole world.

The three were happy together, yes, but Wendy, time and time again, found herself looking out her old bedroom window. Her room was now Jane’s room, and whenever Wendy entered it she felt nostalgic.

But knowing that Peter probably wouldn’t come back for whatever reason, Wendy steeled her heart and went on with life, trying to forget the painful memories that tormented her.

 

PETER’S POV

Yes, he admitted it—he had a terrible memory. Peter had become involved in another huge adventure and had forgotten Wendy for a while. A whole month, in fact. He was swooping over the rustling trees of Neverland when he saw a glimpse of something familiar. Curious, he had dropped down low to see a ramshackle building built in a clearing, with ivy climbing over the walls. It looked a bit dilapidated, he thought.

He knew there was a name for this building, but it wouldn’t come to mind. The memory taunted him, jumping out of reach just as he thought he grasped hold of it. Peter stood in silent trepidation for a while, until he snatched up the memory like he would a fish.

“The Wendy House!” he exclaimed. “How could I forget? I built this myself with my bare hands!” (Not really, the Lost Boys built it, but Peter tended to exaggerate).

Then a thought came striking up out of the blue.

“Wendy!”


End file.
